Anne Palumbo: Make friends, not enemies, at movie theaters

Monday

Feb 25, 2008 at 12:01 AMFeb 25, 2008 at 11:02 AM

Recently, my husband and I went to see a very romantic movie at the movie theater. I wish I could remember what it was about or who was in it or why we went, but nothing pops up when I head upstairs and have a one-on-one with the vermin that drive my memory bank.

Anne Palumbo

Recently, my husband and I went to see a very romantic movie at the movie theater. I wish I could remember what it was about or who was in it or why we went, but nothing pops up when I head upstairs and have a one-on-one with the vermin that drive my memory bank.

All I remember from that evening is the couple seated behind us who were ravenously snorking their way through several food groups.

First, there was the bathtub of popcorn and titanic soft drink. Crunch, crunch, crunch: slu-u-u-urp; chomp, chomp, chomp: slu-u-u-urp; munch, munch, munch: slu-u-u-urp.
Then there was the scratch, scratch, scratching for the un-popped kernels near the end of the bucket, and – no surprise here – the crack of the kernels as they met, again and again and again, a back molar. Who knew molars could take such pounding?

After that, as misfortune could only see fit, my ears were greeted with the protracted wrestling of the stubborn cellophane wrapper around a packet of candy.

From there, naturally, I was blessed with the long-drawn-out mastication of the actual candy. Based on the sound of things, it could only be the chewiest candy ever invented: Milk Duds.

Did I do something heinous at some point in my life? I honestly felt that I was being punished for some wicked thing I said or did back in my cheeky days.

But, of course, I had no time to dwell on such matters because my ruminations were prematurely burst by a new sound: digestion. Or, rather, indigestion. Make that, suppressed indigestion. Yes, indeed-y, there’s nothing quite like listening to a walrus-sized burp being tamped down during a steamy love scene on the big screen.

I don’t know about other people, but I go to movies to get away from loud consumptive sounds and crackling wrappers and digestive flotsam. If I wanted to see a movie with someone crunching chips in my ear and gulping a big Slurpee, I’d stay home.

And, OK, I’m the first to admit that I have a serious problem when it comes to annoying sounds in places that should be relatively quiet. Fact is, I not only hear the sounds, but I latch on to them, frittering away any opportunity to enjoy myself from that point on. My time becomes wretched, my eyes narrow into nasty little slits, and my hands grow desperate to strangle something fleshy.

Listen, I’m not asking moviegoers not to eat food or drink gaseous beverages while watching the big screen. All I’m asking is this: If you must consume things or open noisy packages or clear a week’s worth of phlegm from your throat, please do so under the sound-proof protection of a big heavy coat. You heard me correctly. I’m suggesting you throw a large coat over your head – preferably a down coat with mountains of muffling feathers – and then go about your business.

If you follow this simple suggestion, you’ll make everyone happy. You will! You will be incredibly well-liked and congratulated for your considerate ways. That you may sweat like a pig at a Hawaiian luau is truly beside the point.